


Voice of the past

by Steangine



Series: Voice of us [4]
Category: Bleach
Genre: A bit of sex, Kinda Fluffy, Last one of the series, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:23:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steangine/pseuds/Steangine
Summary: Grimmjow asks Ichigo if there is an ex. There isn't.Ichigo asks Grimmjow if there is an ex. There is. Or better, there was.And Ichigo isn't absolutely jealous. Also, he sucks at lying.[Last part of “Voice of us” series]





	Voice of the past

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested on tumblr and it closes the short series "Voice of". Differently from the others, this revolves exclusively around Grimmjow and Ichigo. There's also a tiny bit of smut.

Ichigo Kurosaki was a busy man.

He had duties as a substitute shinigami, wanted to keep in touch with his friends and family and, of course, there were the college classes that took most of his time. And, among all these things, he had no time for Grimmjow. But Grimmjow had more free time than him, so, from time to time, he sneaked into his room at the campus and stayed there, reading manga and falling asleep while waiting for Ichigo to stop consuming the lamp as he kept reviewing his notes.

“This time I went into a gigai of my own will.”

Grimmjow pointed out. He wasn’t pissed off. It was unusual how fast he adapted to the idea that Ichigo had less free time and they couldn’t hang on as before, but sometimes Ichigo perceived a particular note in Grimmjow’s voice that made him stop whatever he was doing and give him some attention. Grimmjow acted like a cat who could easily slice him in two but only wanted to play.

“Last time I almost got caught making out with the air in the corridor.”

“Not my fault everyone here doesn’t have even the slightest reiatsu.”

“It’s not bad living in a normal environment.”

“Isn’t this a special environment for you then?”

Ichigo sighed and looked down at Grimmjow, knelt between his legs into the cramped space among the desk, the chair and the wall. He only unbuttoned his trousers, while Ichigo was studying, then leant his elbows on Ichigo’s legs and started talking.

“Maybe… aren’t you going to do it?”

“How impatient.”

“Look who’s talking… I told you I would have come back home next week.”

Grimmjow didn’t go for the trousers, instead raised Ichigo’s t-shirt and kissed his navel.

“Here nobody enters your room without asking.”

“You got a point.”

Ichigo wasn’t sure if Grimmjow was in the mood for sex. His kisses were sloppy, as if he was more likely to fall asleep than jump on him. When Ichigo felt his lips brushing against the stomach, was slightly tempted to let the notes go and go into the bed with him instead. But then Grimmjow leaned the head on his right leg and Ichigo had the impression to be stuck with a huge feline who only wanted to be cuddled. He caressed his hair and Grimmjow didn’t protest.

“Ichigo, let’s have sex.”

“Endure it a little more.” Ichigo had the impression he was talking to himself and not to Grimmjow. “I’m almost done.”

Actually, he really hoped for Grimmjow to push it some more, so that Ichigo could put part of the blame on his insistence. However, Grimmjow sighed and turned its head to the other side.

Ichigo gave Grimmjow a quick glance and looked back at his notes. Then, a loud crash echoed into the corridor, followed by a bang. It was the noise of someone who slammed the door so hard that it smashed against the wall and closed back because of the throwback.

Ichigo turned his head to the door of his room. That unexpected noise exploded into the silence of the dormitory and he couldn’t think of an immediate reason related to it. Grimmjow did the same, but his face glimmered with interest.

“Oh, looks like someone’s ready to party.” He commented. “Let’s join them.”

“It’s not a party, I thi–“

Someone screamed and this time Ichigo got up and went checking. His head popped out the door of his room, like many others who spied on the corridor exchanging confused glances. Grimmjow appeared behind him, but nobody noticed him, despite his being flashy, as what was happening in the nearby room sounded far more interesting than a handsome man with blue hair.

“What happens?”

“Beats me…”

All of a sudden , a door slammed, and a girl stormed out marching like a soldier.

“Bastard!” She yelled at someone inside the room that nobody could see. “I caught you in bed with her, you bastard!”

“We broke up last month!” A male voice yelled back. “I can go with whoever I want! If you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sue you!”

Ichigo feared the girl would have walked back, doing something dangerous and stupid because of the anger that was twisting her face. But she just growled something and stomped to the stairs, making sure each of her steps could be heard.

An awkward silent fell on the corridor. Someone inside the incriminated room closed the door and everyone else followed the example. Ichigo was one of the firsts locking himself into the room; he turned the key and looked at Grimmjow.

“That’s a first. Usually you don’t hear anyone here.”

“And you keep saying Hueco Mundo is dead.”

“I already told you I was wrong, okay?” Ichigo sighed. “If I’m not wrong, that’s the room of Moriyama who has some classes with me. That girl should be the ex he is worried about.”

“Ex what?”

“Ex-girlfriend.”

Grimmjow looked Ichigo sitting again in front of the chair. He went straight for the bed.

“Should I be worried that an ex of yours storms in here from that door?” He smirked. “That would be a nice twist in this boring evening.”

Ichigo grimaced. “I’m sorry for your lack of amusement, but there are no ex-partners who will entertain you claiming me back.” He exhaled a small laugh. “Should I be worried one day an arrancar will knock at my door for the very same reason?”

Ichigo replied as a joke. He took that as a little game of tease, where there was no real reason to poke each other yet, but probably they would have reached that point soon. But when Grimmjow replied, his smile disappeared.

“I guess you can relax. Unless he finds a way to come back from the dead.”

Ichigo didn’t say anything immediately. He read one line of his notes and realized didn’t understand a single word.

“Uhm… he?”

“Yylfordt Granz. I don’t think you ever met him. He died during our first fight.”

“Ah. He was…?”

“One of my fraccions, yes.”

Ichigo waited a bit. He looked at the notes without seeing them, waiting for Grimmjow to add something else, but Grimmjow didn’t say anything more. When Ichigo turned to him, he was leaning on his back reading a manga.

“…how was he?”

Despite the fear of sounding jealous -but he absolutely wasn’t-, Ichigo asked it. There was something strange about the idea that Grimmjow had someone else before him. He already was shocked when he realized that living in Hueco Mundo didn’t mean killing and waiting for someone to kill all day long – and that was just natural, that it wasn’t everything kill and chill, but the idea he had of Grimmjow before their relationship was only that of the arrancar who repeatedly tried to kill him. Some deep part of him knew that was only a crumble of who Grimmjow was and everything else in the past of the arrancar was a pitch-black landscape Ichigo couldn’t detect. Or didn’t want to detect. And now, out of the blue, another piece of knowledge: he wasn’t the first one for Grimmjow. The idea of not knowing, made him feel like someone stole the chair from under his butt while he was still sitting on it.

“Yylfordt… well… he was…” Grimmjow glanced at the ceiling for a second, then went back at his manga. “…loud-mouthed and arrogant.” He didn’t say anything else.

“Could you be a bit more specific?”

“Why are you so interested? He’s dead.”

Grimmjow was rude and discarded the topic as uninteresting. Ichigo rocked back on the cracking chair, he was looking at his notes, but all his will of study disappeared somewhere, and he couldn’t find it anymore.

“Did you like him?”

Ichigo clearly heard Grimmjow’s huff. “Of course, he was pleasant. I may look like one, but I don’t fuck the first one who crosses my path.”

Probably he needed to be more specific to go over that dumbness that could be only a pretending game or a genuine lack of empathy.

“Did you like him more than… me?”

He asked it. And he felt really stupid, because _that_ was dumb and not  Grimmjow.

“Forget it. It’s not that important. After all, he’s dead, right?”

“Right, he is.” Grimmjow had already closed his manga, but Ichigo was facing the desk, giving him the back, and didn’t see him. “I don’t like you the way I liked him.”

The silence was awkward. In the background, both could hear some disturbances, like someone closing a door, a distant talk, the slight sound of a song. Ichigo looked outside the window and he wouldn’t have minded changing into his shinigami form for a walk without anyone bothering him. But Grimmjow’s silence was keeping him there, tied to the chair.

“Yylfordt was my fraccion, he swore his loyalty to me like all the others. Of course it was different. He was beautiful, and I chose him to be my sexual partner.”

Even if Ichigo didn’t say anything, Grimmjow knew he was carefully listening. He went on.

“Having sex in Hueco Mundo is a gamble. Because you become vulnerable during sex, most of your defenses go down. Somehow, you open to the other with you. Yylfordt was both loyal and beautiful. I liked his body.”

It sounded like Grimmjow didn’t prepare anything. He was just speaking his mind as pieces of his memories -or feelings?- surfaced enough for him to grab and convey them through words.

“I… think it was the first time since when I was an adjuchas I realized I could be vulnerable as an arrancar as well. It was…”

Grimmjow’s voice faded, searching for a particular word he probably didn’t want to say.

“…scary?” Ichigo helped him.

“Yes…” Grimmjow was reluctant at admitting it. “…scary. And it was nice feeling good for sex and not being worried the one you were having sex with would have turned his claws at you. My fraccions were the only ones I could rely on, among all the arrancar. Yylfordt was kinda the luckiest, because he had nice looks and a nice body and I let him sleep with me.” Ichigo clearly heard Grimmjow’s growl. “If I ever sound so sappy again, slap me.”

Ichigo had many questions that whirled into his head. _Did you talk with him after sex? Did you let him suck you from the beginning?_ Ichigo recalled how Grimmjow was almost reluctant at exposing his neck, using a metaphor, during their first times and preferred being the one conducting the action. _Did you vent out your frustration with him? How much did you open to him?_

However, he said nothing. He wanted to know but decided to wait for Grimmjow to say more when he wanted to. Even if it hurt. Even if he was…

“Are you jealous?”

“Not an inch.”

Ichigo stood up. He walked slowly to the bed and sat down in the little space left by Grimmjow. An arm grabbed his waist from behind and Ichigo leaned down, sinking his face on the cushion.

“You liar.”

Grimmjow’s breath tickled his neck. Ichigo was completely exposed to him: he could have kissed him, bit him or ripped a chunk of flesh off him. The embrace of the soft bed and Grimmjow’s warm body were like a comfortable blanket he could have wrapped himself into only to fall asleep. His hand leaned on Grimmjow’s.

“Grimmjow… you liked them… and him.”

“I wasn’t aware there was knowledge embodied into you.”

“Here I was just trying to be of comfort.”

“About what? They’re dead.”

Despite they were that close, Grimmjow on many things had his wavelength, that of an arrancar, and Ichigo couldn’t share his view. But, sometimes, he managed to understand it. That was one of those times and he decided to respect his decision to cut off with the past.

As Ichigo moved to turn around, Grimmjow released his grip only to tighten it again when they were face to face. Grimmjow looked tired, Ichigo noticed, and probably that was the expression closest to sadness he had ever seen on his face. How much an arrancar forgot about their past to not being able to recall all the range of complex emotions which made a human being? Another question Ichigo had but hadn’t made yet.

“It’s not your fault...”

_.. _ _ that they died. _ Ichigo didn’t say it, but Grimmjow understood it. He closed his eyes when Ichigo drew his features with the tips of his fingers and moved away some locks from his forehead before sinking one hand into his hair and the other on the crease between the neck and the shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have asked if you liked him more than me.” Ichigo added.

When Grimmjow opened his eyes, he was frowning and he dangerously recalled Ichigo his father before starting his useless scolds. Ichigo understood Grimmjow wasn’t blaming him for asking it, but for regretting his doing.

“Well, you did. It’s useless crying over the spilt cream.”

“Milk.”

“What milk? Ah, no wait. I know this, it’s a way to say semen. Are you finally in the mood for sex?”

As he said it, his hands grabbed Ichigo’s waist. If Grimmjow was in his resurrection form, Ichigo knew his ears would have flinched. He couldn’t help but think of a dog whose master had just told they were about to take a walk after a long day confined into the house. His blue eyes were glimmering.

“It’s useless crying over the spilt milk, not cream…”

“Whatever it is…” He started casually as if he was about to ask the time. “I’d be happy to suck yours.”

Ichigo’s brain froze.

“W-what?”

“It’s a thing I read in a manga. I don’t recall the exact words, but I thought that would work.”

Grimmjow was serious. He seriously believed that whatever he read into a manga was a reflection of reality and that naïve side of him clashed with his whole behavior. Ichigo melted, despite his puzzlement for that lame pick up line said without the right voice, and pressed his body against him.

“Don’t use lines from a manga anymore.”

“What? But young humans use them all the time!”

“Jeez, you sound like an old man.”

“I’m some decades older than you, you know?”

“Okay okay. But we need to talk about using manga lines.”

“Now?”

“No.” Ichigo lightly kissed him, smacking his lips. “Later.”

Taking off their clothes required them time and attention. The bed was more than comfortable for one person and quite cramped for two. While Grimmjow was taking off Ichigo’s t-shirt, he kissed every single part of him he could reach, starting from the stomach to his chest. He bit on Ichigo’s neck, taking a loud sigh out of him.

By the time their clothes were scattered on the floor, they were both hard. Ichigo sat on Grimmjow’s legs and his eyes fell on his erection: the desire of skipping the whole premises and penetrating himself on it was tempting, if only he could have done it. But, on the other hand, Grimmjow was inside a gigai, a more sensitive body; Ichigo loved to see his muscles contracting as he nibbled his skin and traced circles with his fingers near his groin or touched his stomach and his chest with his hands and lips.

Grimmjow moaned when Ichigo sucked on the tip of his erection and Ichigo suddenly raised his head, pressing a hand on his mouth.

“Don’t be loud, they’ll hear us.”

Ichigo couldn’t see his malicious grin but felt it on the palm of his hand and read Grimmjow’s intentions into his eyes.

“Grimmjow, really, don–woah!”

Grimmjow pinned him down the bed and laughed.

“And who may be these _they_?”

Grimmjow was enjoying himself, having fun while their bodies rubbed against one another in the attempt of taking the lead. He was amused and excited at the same time, the way he was smiling wasn’t malicious or creepy, it was just happy and… beautiful. And Ichigo fell in love with him again – and kept fighting at the same time.

“The other students, you idiot.”

Ichigo kissed him on the lips and tried to push him back. He wriggled away from him only to have his strong arms again around his waist, then escaped again and was caught again. His attempts became weaker and weaker, until he melted inside Grimmjow’s arms.

Their bodies were covered in sweat and sticky lube. Grimmjow slid inside him so easily… Ichigo was surprised how his body surrendered and welcomed him without opposing any resistance. It was beautiful, pleasant and exciting. Grimmjow never talked during sex. Somewhere deep, Ichigo thought what would have happened if he were to growl something inside his ear – something dirty? But that rarely happened, Grimmjow was too focused on feeling pleasure and making him feel pleasure. Sometimes he only called his name and that was enough for Ichigo to come.

Grimmjow was over him, inside him. He started slowly, keeping Ichigo inside his arms, caressing his shoulders and biting his neck. And he trembled and Ichigo hugged him. Was he cold? No, he was excited. Ichigo sank his fingers inside his hair and kissed him again. When Grimmjow thrusted with more strength, Ichigo moaned and hold onto his shoulders. Among his heavy breaths and moans, Ichigo wasn’t sure if he let out a small “Yes.”, he didn’t know, nor he cared. His mind was lost into the labyrinth of his burning body, brought to the brim until his voice creaked, but he was too busy feeling pleasure to mind everything else.

When Ichigo came, Grimmjow kept moving inside him -he growled something Ichigo didn’t understand- until his body couldn’t resist anymore and reached the peak of the pleasure. Whenever it happened, Grimmjow bended his head back; Ichigo knew the view very well, his teeth clenched, his beautiful features contracted for an endless instant before the release, his eyes closed. But that time, Grimmjow bended forward, held Ichigo tight into his arms and moaned so close to him that his body, even if exhausted, trembled in pleasure.

In a single moment, Ichigo wanted to do so many things he would have needed too many doubles: kissing him, hugging him, touching him, having him again against the nature laws that imposed on his body the need of a quite long rest before another round. But he didn’t do any of these, he just laid down on the bed, looking at how Grimmjow’s chest moved up and down. Somewhere inside him, even if he was an arrancar, there was a heart and the thought made him smile.

Short breath and dirty blankets.

Ichigo didn’t know why, right after his mind stabilized a bit, those were the first things he thought about. Grimmjow was looking directly at him, Grimmjow was _seeing_ him. And  Ichigo was thinking about how they had to change blankets and take a shower before going to bed. Grimmjow flinched on his forehead.

“Ichigo.” His voice was tired, he spoke among his breaths. “I don’t know if this is love…” He looked up for a second, as if he was reflecting. “…but it’s really far away from hate. So maybe it is.”

Ichigo slapped Grimmjow on the forehead.

“What the hell?”

“You said to slap you in case you said something sappy.”

“Oh, right…”

Grimmjow suddenly lost that tiny burst of menacing aura and his head fell again on the pillow.

Ichigo smiled. “Maybe… if it wasn’t for Yylfordt, you would have taken much more time to let me in… probably you loved him.”

Grimmjow huffed. “I didn’t hate him.” He raised an arm as if he wanted to touch Ichigo, but then let it fall over his stomach. “And I don’t want to kill you anymore… it was much funnier back then though.” He pointed his index at Ichigo. “This time isn’t sappy, don’t even try it.”

“Trying to kill me was fun?”

“At least you put on a decent fight. There’s no one to fight lately…”

“If that’s the problem, then I’ll introduce you to Kenpachi.”

“The one who fought Nnoitra?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll pass, I want to fight you.”

“Don’t say there’s no one to fight then. It’s just that you’re spoiled.”

Grimmjow sat down, Ichigo propped on his elbows before sitting next to him. He put his feet on the floor. Cold.

“Maybe I lied.”

Ichigo looked at Grimmjow.

“Maybe I could have liked Yylfordt the way I like you if we had more time.”

“Maybe you did, who knows.”

Ichigo huffed. He was jealous. But as he took Grimmjow’s hand, he felt better.

“We must change the blankets. And take a shower. We made a mess.”

“Ah damn it.” Grimmjow scratched his head. “That’s the worst part of sex.” He turned to Ichigo, inspected him from head to toe. “At least, it’s worth it.”

“Hey, what do you mean?” Ichigo frowned. “Sappy again.”

He flinched Grimmjow’s forehead with his index. Grimmjow was smiling. He smiled too.

**Author's Note:**

> It's difficult writing fluff about Grimmjow and Ichigo without sinking into a sappiness that makes both OOC. I don't know if I reached the goal though. This time I had fun writing smut and it's a first for me.


End file.
